


Under the Weather

by Milarca



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Caretaking, Cuddling, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Illness, Jesus doesn’t want to be a burden, M/M, Multi, Rick and Daryl just want to help, Sickfic, cuddle sandwich, excess fluff, showering together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-06 05:32:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11593959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Milarca/pseuds/Milarca
Summary: Jesus and Daryl end up in a downpour while out on a run and Jesus catches a cold. Thankfully Rick and Daryl are there to take care of him~





	Under the Weather

The downpour started before they had time to get back to the van. The ransacked trailers they’d been able to find had been at the end of a long driveway blocked by fallen trees. Jesus looked out the window of the bathroom he was digging through as the rain started to drip down through the roof. He heard Daryl curse in one of the bedrooms. Jesus knew the half dozen dead ones they’d seen heading in their direction meant they couldn’t just wait out the rain. 

“We gotta go,” Daryl said, backpack in hand. 

“Yeah.” Jesus gave him a tired smile before dumping the few bottles of medicine and toiletries he’d managed to find into the other man’s backpack. 

Back in the living room, they each grabbed a box filled with clothes and cans of food. Daryl checked to make sure there weren’t any walkers within biting distance and then pushed the door open, holding it for a second for Jesus. 

They were drenched within seconds, though at least the heavy rain kept their scent from reaching the lingering walkers. Jesus tightened his hold on the cardboard box and followed Daryl as they picked their way over fallen branches and strewn junk. The mud was slippery but Jesus’s footing was deft as he hopped across the wet ground. 

They made good time, avoiding the few walkers that picked up their scent, but it was still ten or so minutes until they reached the van. By the time they did, Jesus’s boots were waterlogged, his feet were frozen, and he was soaked to the bone. They heaved the boxes into the back of the van and squelched into the front seats. 

Daryl growled in annoyance, shrugging out of his wet vest and tossing it to the floor. 

“Goddamn swimmin’ in that rain.” 

“Yeah no kidding,” Jesus laughed tiredly, taking his soggy beanie off and dropping it down as well. He didn’t want to but he forced himself to pull at his stiff and sopping leather jacket, getting it off with some effort. He shivered hard as the cold sunk further into his skin. 

Daryl glanced over at him and started the van. The engine thrummed to life and then they were driving down the rest of the backroad and onto the main one. Rain streaked the windshield and pattered on the metal roof of the cabin. 

Jesus looked out the window at the passing forest, blowing in the wind and rain. They were nearly an hour from Alexandria… and it wasn't going to be a pleasant trip. 

  


“Do you want me to drive?” Jesus asked after half an hour. He felt exhausted and wet to the core, but it was only fair. He’d driven the second half there after all. 

“Nah,” Daryl said, chewing the inside of his mouth and leaning back in the seat.

“You sure? I can.” 

“Nah, I got it.”

Jesus looked at him, too tired to argue. “Okay.” 

Daryl liked driving and if he wanted to drive then Jesus wasn’t going to stop him. He was exhausted anyway. He brought a sleeve up to his nose, wiping away a bit of wetness. Was he getting sick?

Daryl looked over at him. “You alright?”

Jesus licked his lips. “Yeah, I’m fine.” 

“You don’t look fine.” 

“Excuse me, I look fine all the time.” 

Daryl scoffed at him and he grinned. 

“I’m serious, Jesus,” Daryl said after a second. “You weren't—” He seemed to get tense real quick and Jesus’s eyes widened. 

“ _No, no,_ I wasn't bit.” They’d been separated at one location so he understood Daryl’s concern. “I’m fine. Just caught something, I guess. That’s all.”

Daryl grunted and watched him for a second before turning back to the road. 

  


Fifteen minutes later Jesus shuddered, a chill sweeping up him. He swallowed and felt his eyelids getting heavy. They were close; he knew they were. He just wanted to sleep. He should really get back to Hilltop though. He had told Maggie he would be back before dark. But the sun was setting already, and the rain didn’t look like it was going to let up any time soon. He wondered if Rick and Daryl would mind if he stayed with them. 

No, of course they wouldn’t. He’d stayed with them before.

“Almost there,” Daryl said low, eyes on the road. 

Jesus looked over at him. “Yeah, I know.”

“Mmm.” 

Jesus wiped his nose again as they reached the gates of Alexandria. Daryl glanced at him as they rolled in.

“You better warm up after we get this stuff unloaded.”

“Yeah,” Jesus said, feeling heavy and chilled right through. 

Daryl pursed his lips, driving to the storage garage and backing into it. The garage door opened and Aaron guided Daryl back. 

Jesus winced at the thought of going back out into the rain but he wanted to put his jacket back on even less so he got out and quickly made his way into the garage, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. His feet felt like they were going to fall off from being wet for so long, but he knew if he started to dry off he would never want to stop so he pushed his hair out of his face as Aaron pulled the back door of the van up. 

“Wow. Good work, guys.” 

“Mm,” Jesus said wearily. They had actually gathered quite a haul before the rain had started. There were nearly a half dozen boxes in the back. Not bad for a day’s work. 

Aaron looked at him quizzically as Daryl came around.

“You don’t look so great,” Aaron said.

“What? I’m fine,” Jesus said with a smile, dropping his hands and reaching in to grab a box. It was heavier than he thought and he had to shift it against his chest before he could get a good grip. But he did, ignoring the looks of apprehension from the other two as he got it over to a shelf. 

Aaron and Daryl grabbed boxes as well and soon everything was unloaded. They should have organized it before splitting up but they all agreed that they needed to rest. Or at least, Aaron insisted they go warm up, and Jesus wasn't going to ignore that. He gave the other man a small smile before hopping back into the truck. 

Daryl followed and they drove down the street. But they didn’t just park in the side street like Jesus expected. Daryl drove them right to Rick’s house. Jesus started, surprised. 

“What’re you—” 

“Go get dry,” Daryl said with a tip of his chin. 

Jesus sighed but got out, only slightly wary. He knew that Rick and Daryl treated him as something fragile sometimes. He didn’t mind it, really - in truth he could admit to himself that he actually enjoyed it, a lot - but sometimes he wondered if he should be submitting to it so easily, considering their lack of resources. He didn't want to be seen as getting even slightly better treatment, especially since he wasn't even really _from_ Alexandria. 

In any event, he sighed and went up the stairs, the usual spring missing from his step. Shit. He needed to pour out his boots. He should go around back for that…

“Jesus.” 

_Rick._

Jesus shivered at the sound of Rick’s voice through the screen door. He was holding Judith, bouncing her gently on his hip. Carl was in the living room shuffling some cards. 

“Hey,” he said tiredly, giving Judith a smile. 

“Hey,” Rick said warmly, glancing to his daughter and brushing her hair affectionately. He gave her a kiss on the head before looking back at him. “How’d it go?” 

“Great. We got lots of stuff.” 

“Good, good,” he said, but his eyes narrowed as he took in Jesus’s dripping frame. “You’re soaked. Get your boots off.” Rick looked past him then, a hint of anxiety in his eyes. “Where’s Daryl?” 

Jesus sighed, considering how much water was in his boots. “He’s parking the van.”

“Ah. Okay.” Rick looked out into the rain then back to Jesus. “Hurry up. You’re gonna need a hot shower and something warm to drink after all that.” 

Jesus laughed and nodded. _Yeah no kidding_. He sniffled and took a seat on one of the chairs on the porch, pulling off one boot and then the other. A cup full of water came out of each when he held them upside down. He winced. He peeled off his socks too and draped them over his upturned boots where he’d set them against the railing. 

He squeezed his hair out and couldn’t help the full-body shiver that wracked him just as Daryl came up the steps.

“Shit, come on,” the tracker said, coming over to him and taking his hand, pulling him up and into him. Jesus shuddered but resisted. 

“I’m f-fine, really.”

“Like hell you are.”

Jesus smiled reluctantly, leaning into his warmth as the older man got him into the house. He sniffed hard again and shook, dizzy standing barefoot on the entryway mat. He was dripping on the mat as well. He tried to shift away but Daryl’s hold was firm. 

“Daryl—” he whispered.

“ _Oh._ ” 

Jesus looked left into the living room at the sound of Carl's voice. 

“Come on,” Daryl urged, walking him towards the stairs. Jesus made a small noise, feeling stiff.

“I can—” 

“Whoa whoa,” Rick said, only just realizing what a state Jesus was in. He handed Judith to Carl and came over. “C’mere,” he said, glancing to Daryl and getting a nod before taking Jesus from him. 

“No— I’m fine, really—” Jesus tried to pull away, embarrassed and overheated. 

“ _No_ ,” Rick said firmly. “You’re _not_ fine. And you _will_ let us help you.”

Jesus swallowed and nodded faintly at the authority in Rick’s voice, dropping his resistance. He sighed when Rick’s heavy scent hit him. He leaned into him, seeking the comforting smell. 

Rick got a strong arm under him and took over from Daryl. “He wasn't bit?” he asked him, fear colouring his eyes as he realized what might have happened. Jesus flinched at the implication - that he would be so stupid as to let it happen in the first place and then to not disclose it immediately if he had. 

“No,” Daryl quickly affirmed. “Just got the flu or somethin’,” he said as he transferred Jesus’s weight.

“Good… come on, sweetheart,” Rick said, guiding him up the stairs. Jesus sniffed. His nose was definitely running now and he felt a headache coming on. And his limbs were weakening already as his body focused its energy on creating antibodies to fight the virus. Great. 

At the top, Rick got him into the bathroom and sat him on the toilet lid. 

“Sorry. I’m fine. I can get— get undressed without help, Rick. I’ve had a cold before. And in much worse conditions than this.” He managed a laugh. 

“I know you can,” Rick said, reaching for his shirt buttons and gently pushing Jesus’s hands away. “But I’m gonna help ya anyway.”

Jesus’s face reddened at Rick’s words and the hot touch of his fingers on his chest but he nodded. As Rick got his shirt unbuttoned and then took it from his shoulders, a shiver rolled down his spine, and it wasn’t just from the cold. 

Rick and Daryl had been together long before Jesus had entered the picture, and though it had been some months since their fateful meeting and eventual falling in, Jesus still felt nervous around the other man. They had fucked, yeah, but there was still an intensity to Rick that left Jesus feeling breathless and tense. Nervous. 

It was a good feeling. He liked the authority Rick had. It made him feel safe and secure in a way that was different from what he felt when he was with Daryl. Daryl was sweet and kind and roughly protective. He would put himself between Jesus and danger in a heartbeat, even if Jesus always held his own and only rarely needed that kind of help. 

But there was an unmistakable sense of control when Rick took charge, like he had all the facts and knew exactly what needed to be done. He wasn't always right, of course, but as Jesus grew to know him, he saw clearly that he was a skilled leader, inside and outside the bedroom. That confidence settled something deep within him, and he willingly gave himself over to it. 

It also gave him a thrill to be attractive to the men, both capable warriors in their own rights, but more than that; they had built something. Dozens of people looked to them for guidance. It pleased him that Hilltop had been assimilated into the power structure of Rick’s group, with Maggie loyal to him. Gregory was still at Hilltop but he had no power now for which Jesus was thankful. 

The transfer of control had panned out better than he’d dreamed. Maggie was a strong, decisive leader. He saw how capable she was firsthand, and he knew the Hilltop was in good hands when he saw her in charge. Even at several months pregnant. 

Jesus had also been glad that he could safely leave Hilltop without worrying. That he could be here to help out and he could be around Rick and Daryl. They made him feel good like few people had in the past. It had taken a while before he had opened up to them, but they didn't push and it had happened naturally. 

Rick’s lips twitched, the only indication he’d seen Jesus shudder. 

“Stand up,” he said, and helped Jesus to his feet. Jesus could hear Daryl talking with Carl before he came up the stairs and went into the guest bedroom.

Rick took his hand and put it on his shoulder. Jesus inhaled, squeezing tight as Rick got his pants unzipped. They were heavy with water and Jesus knew he needed help with them but it still made him flush. 

He wanted to touch Rick’s hair, but he didn't want to infect him any more than he might already have or could. 

“I don't want to get you sick,” he said worriedly.

Rick smiled. “I’ll be careful.”

Jesus swallowed and let Rick tug his burgundy cargo pants down. He stepped out of them and then blushed furiously as Rick got his briefs off as well. Rick’s eyes strayed for a moment before he smoothed a hand down his flank and rubbed briskly, trying to get warmth back into him and simultaneously offering a reassuring touch. Jesus exhaled, toes curling, and then sniffed, wiping his nose again as it dripped. 

Rick stood and took his shoulders, looking him over for a second before stroking his cheek, looking into his eyes affectionately and critically. Jesus knew he looked like shit, but Rick didn’t seem to care. Rick rubbed his cheek with the back of his hand, looking more worried by the minute, before he started the shower. 

Jesus shivered bodily at the sudden lack of heat close to him but Rick had the hot shower running in a second and then he was urging him in. Jesus stepped in and sighed, standing under the spray as it pattered off his bare body. He knew he shouldn't be wasting the water but his energy was rapidly plummeting. He put a hand against the tile and breathed. 

He heard Rick undressing and he was too tired to even think about what that meant, not that he was worried. He heard the curtain pull aside and then Rick’s strong, compact body was at his back. He whimpered quietly as Rick pulled him in, kissing his shoulder. 

“Just relax, darlin’.”

Jesus nodded and let Rick turn him around so his hair was in the spray. He winced but Rick kept him there until his hair was wet and then got him back, grabbing shampoo and massaging his scalp. Jesus let his head fall back slightly, using all of his energy not to collapse.

“Just a little more,” Rick said, cleaning his hair and rubbing soap into his skin, getting the grime out and trying to warm him up. Jesus shivered anyway. It was helping a bit though he thought. 

Thankfully Rick finished quickly and then he made sure Jesus was rinsed off properly before he got out himself.

“Just a sec, sweetheart. Just a sec.”

Jesus leaned into the wall and waited for Rick to dry and put a towel around his waist before he helped him out. He shivered as the cold hit him and wrapped his arms around himself. Rick put a towel around him before he dried his hair with another towel and then took the one he was gripping and rubbed the rest of him down. 

Sometime during the shower Daryl presumably had left a pile of clothes on the counter. Rick grabbed them and eased Jesus’s legs first into boxers and then the pyjama pants. They were Rick’s, Jesus realized, and some tension left his shoulders at the thought. 

“Thank you,” he said softly, petting Rick’s hair now that he was clean. 

“‘S no trouble,” Rick said, taking a shirt and getting Jesus’s arms into it, buttoning it up. Lastly, he dressed himself, and then guided Jesus into the bedroom. Jesus swallowed and let Rick get him into bed. He sighed into the comfortable warmth, pulling the covers over his shoulders and shivering. 

Rick hummed and ran a hand through his hair, leaning down to kiss his cheek. Jesus smiled weakly and leaned into him. 

“I'm going to infect you,” he protested softly. 

“No ya won't.”

Jesus hummed and Rick smiled softly. 

Jesus heard talking downstairs but easily tuned it out. Rick turned his head to listen. 

“Get some rest. I'll be right back.”

Jesus nodded, exhausted. 

  


It seemed like only a second later he was being woken up to Rick standing above him with a glass in his hand. 

“Hey. Sit up. Gotta drink somethin’.” He sat down on the side of the bed as Jesus sat up. And felt his nose start to drip almost immediately. He reached for the cloth on the side of the bed and blew his nose. He groaned.

“Sorry.”

“Don't worry about it. Here.”

Rick held the glass out and he took it, raising it to his lips to drink from. He took a few sips and then handed it back. Rick didn't look pleased but he took it anyway. Then he grabbed a dark green bottle from the side table and unscrewed it. Jesus balked. 

“I don't need that. I’m fine. I’ll be over this in no time and somebody will need it more than—”

“Paul, you’re taking this. Just a little. There’ll still be more for others and this stuff is expiring anyway. It’ll make you feel better.”

Jesus twisted his lips but sat up, submitting to Rick’s judgement. Rick poured a bit of the medicine into the measuring cup and held it to his lips. Jesus opened his mouth and let Rick pour it past his teeth. He winced as he swallowed the sweet, bitter liquid and took the glass of water Rick again offered, downing it all to chase away the taste. He handed it back and wiped his mouth. 

“Thanks.”

Rick hummed, petting his hair again. 

“Get some rest.”

Jesus swallowed and looked down. He nodded. 

“Yeah. Yeah, for sure. Thank you, Rick. I don't want to be any trouble—”

“ _Hey_. It’s no trouble.” Rick gave him a smile and took his jaw, leaning in to kiss his forehead. 

Jesus’s cheeks heated and he sighed, pleased. He felt so sleepy. He glanced to Rick again and wet his lips, shifting. Rick looked at him and seemed to realize what he was thinking. 

“Go see if Daryl’s alright,” Jesus said before Rick could say anything, not wanting to push anything on him. 

Rick’s eyebrows rose and he smiled. “You givin’ me orders now?”

Jesus shook his head. “No, no, I just want him to be okay—”

“Daryl’s fine,” Rick said fondly. “He went out and got you that from the infirmary.” He motioned to the bottle. Jesus heated. 

“He didn't have to do that—”

“But he did. He’s alright. He got dry and warm and ate something and he’s with Judith and Carl now downstairs.”

Jesus sighed. “Good.” He couldn't bear if Daryl got sick too. _He’d_ been the one to insist they go to those houses anyway. If they had just left like Daryl said then this wouldn't have happened. 

“What is it?” Rick asked softly, taking Jesus’s hand from where he’d been wringing it on his lap and squeezing it. 

“It’s nothing.” He bit his lip. 

“ _Paul…_ ” Rick said warningly, squeezing his hand, and Jesus shifted, his cheeks warming. 

“It’s my fault we were out there when the rain hit. Daryl wanted to go back and I wanted to stay and—”

Jesus inhaled sharply and sneezed, grabbing the cloth to wipe his nose with. He sighed. Rick looked at him with concern. 

“Hey. Things like this happen. It’s nobody’s fault. You’ll be right as rain in a few days _max_ , I know it.”

Jesus nodded. “Yeah. Of course. I know I will be.” He laughed nervously and held his wrist, fidgeting. Rick watched him carefully and rubbed his hand with his thumb. 

“Okay. Sleep. Someone’ll be around again in a bit.” He kissed Jesus’s forehead again and squeezed his shoulder before heading downstairs. Jesus sighed and looked at his hands, picking at his cuticles. He sniffled. He was getting a sore throat now, too. 

He heard talking in the entryway, then footsteps on the stairs - Jesus could tell in a second that it was Daryl.

The hunter walked into the shadowy room and Jesus lit up. “Hey! Thank you for the medicine.” Then he dropped his eyes. “I’m— sorry for this.”

“‘S not yer fault,” Daryl said, standing by the bed and biting his cheek, arms crossed and looking at the wall. “Don't want you droppin’ ‘cuz of a damn cold.”

Jesus smiled. “I'll be fine.”

“Ya better be.”

Jesus grinned at him. He wanted to hold his hand out but he didn't want to get him sick.

Daryl came around to his side anyway and leaned against the wall. Then he rocked forward and pressed the back of his hand to Jesus’s forehead. 

Jesus smiled up at him. “Do I feel warm?” he teased. 

“Yeah. Guess we don't got any of them thermometers anywhere ‘round here…” He glanced down the stairs. The infirmary probably had one, but taking his temperature seemed like a waste of time. 

“Don't bother.”

Daryl grunted skeptically. 

“Be back ta check on ya later. Get some sleep.”

Jesus nodded. “Mmhmm.”

Daryl bit his lip again before leaving. Jesus sighed and swallowed around his developing sore throat, settling down and getting comfortable. He fell asleep within seconds. 

  


It was dark out when he next woke, to the sound of whispers and movement. On his side facing away from the door, he coughed and shivered, then he heard the bed creak and the covers pull back. He looked over and knew it was Rick. He swallowed and licked his lips, and then Rick’s strong arm was slipping under his and around his waist. He whimpered at the comfort that brought, taking Rick’s arm and squeezing it. He curled back into him. Rick was in pyjama pants now and he easily wrapped himself around the younger man, snuggling close. He fitted his chin at Jesus’s neck and kissed his hair. 

“How ya doin’?”

“G—” Jesus coughed. “Good.”

Rick laughed in his throat. “Sounds like it.” He squeezed Jesus tighter and kissed him again, nuzzling into his hair. 

Jesus hummed, wriggling against the other man affectionately. 

Rick smirked. “Settle down.”

“Yes, sir,” Jesus said playfully, and Rick chuckled low, kissing him again, hand tightening in his. 

Jesus hadn't fallen asleep yet when he heard Daryl on the stairs. He hummed and when Rick shifted back, he followed, giving the hunter some room if he wanted to join. 

Daryl went to the spare bedroom first before coming into Rick’s. He stood in the doorway for some moments before stepping in. He was shirtless and wearing some ratty pants. Not that Jesus minded. Daryl got into bed facing Jesus and slipped in, attempting to keep himself silent. He huffed when he saw them both looking at him. 

“Liars.”

They both laughed. Daryl got in and laid there just looking at him. 

“Feelin’ any better?” He asked, biting a fingernail. 

Jesus nodded. “With you two here I am.”

Daryl snorted and Rick hugged Jesus closer, humming. He was closer to sleep than either of them. Jesus reached for Daryl carefully, taking his hand when the man didn't resist and bringing it to his lips. He kissed it hard and held it to his cheek, curling up slightly. 

Daryl hummed and shifted closer so their legs were touching. He reached out and ran his hand through his hair, brushing his bewhiskered cheek with the back of his knuckles. He tipped Jesus’s chin up and then held his fingers to his mouth. Jesus smiled and kissed him, eyes dark and tired. Daryl hummed approvingly and held Jesus’s hand so he was holding both his and Rick’s. Rick made a low noise behind Jesus and shifted minutely. 

Jesus sighed contentedly. He started when Daryl shifted even closer so their foreheads were touching. Jesus exhaled a quiet laugh. 

“Don't cough on me ya hear?” Daryl rumbled, and Jesus laughed deep in his belly. 

He nodded. “I’ll try.”

“Good. Now sleep.”

“Mmhmm.”

Daryl rubbed his hand comfortingly and Jesus sighed. He tried to wait until Daryl’s breathing evened but he couldn’t fight his own exhaustion. He didn't think the hunter ever really slept deeply anyway, and eventually he let himself drift off, hopeful he would feel better in the morning. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always appreciated, no matter when you read the story! :) | Find me on tumblr at [milarca](http://milarca.tumblr.com/), or my walking dead blog [you-answer-to-me](http://you-answer-to-me.tumblr.com/) <3


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